


Laughing at Archaeologists

by traitorhero



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traitorhero/pseuds/traitorhero
Summary: Juno let his hand drop onto his desk. It was the same desk as it had always been, from the circular stain on the corner from a glass that had contained whiskey more often than not, to the burned hole through the third drawer on the right hand side from when his blaster had gone off unexpectedly. If he moved his foot a little farther forward he knew it would tap against the safe underneath. It was his office, exactly as he remembered it.Which, coupled with a spontaneously regrowing eye, was a problem. Because the last thing he remembered he had been onboard the Carte Blanche.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 22
Kudos: 99





	Laughing at Archaeologists

Juno blinked.

That in and of itself was not unusual. In fact, it was something that most people did multitudes of times a day. The thing that made it strange, unsettling even, was that he could see the entirety of his office without having to turn his head. He reached up a hand and covered his right eye, feeling the lashes brush against his palm. It wasn’t as dark as it should have been, pinpricks of light filtering through the miniscule gaps in his fingers and hitting the eye behind. 

Juno let his hand drop onto his desk. It was the same desk as it had always been, from the circular stain on the corner from a glass that had contained whiskey more often than not, to the burned hole through the third drawer on the right hand side from when his blaster had gone off unexpectedly. If he moved his foot a little farther forward he knew it would tap against the safe underneath. It was his office, exactly as he remembered it.

Which, coupled with a spontaneously regrowing eye, was a problem. Because the last thing he remembered he had been onboard the Carte Blanche.

Juno shook his head, his eyes falling on the open comms that he had dropped on his desk. The bloody body hanging halfway out of a trophy case was familiar, along with the message scrawled above it. Croesus looked as bad as he had the first time, and Juno could almost smell the metallic tang of blood and wet meat that had suffused the trophy case. The comms beeped, Rita’s ident obscuring the horrific image.

“Boss?” she said. “There’s another call coming through but it’s all strange and woobly. Not that it’s much of a problem, I’ve been updating my comms, but it’s getting really insistent and they seem really impatient -”

“Just let it through, Rita,” Juno told her.

“If you’re sure...”

“I am.”

His comms beeped again, a string of numbers ending in a W replacing Rita’s ident before Sasha Wire appeared on them.

“Juno.”

“Sasha. It's been awhile.”

He could see the edge of a smirk on her lips as she responded, “Fifteen years.It would have been longer, but your name popped up in my alerts.”

“You have my name marked?”

“Only since that business with Kanagawa and those mobsters.”

Juno sighed. “I wasn’t involved in anything-”

“Don’t even bother lying to me, Juno. I saw the stream. Your shooting is as good as ever.”

“I keep in practice,” he replied with a wince.

It wasn’t exactly untrue. He had begun to practice again, trying to get the hang of shooting with only one eye in a way he hadn’t after he had lost his eye the first time. It had been hard, was still hard, but he had been making progress. Having his original eye back again was an interesting conundrum, and he could feel the urge to close it and just look over the room with his left. 

“You got a reason for calling, Sasha? I don’t get the feeling that this is a social call.”

“I couldn’t just be concerned for your safety?”

“Yeah, no.”

“Fair enough,” she said with a shrug. “What do you know about the Death Mask of Grimpotheuthis?

Juno closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. He knew there was something that he had said to her about the Mask, but he couldn’t quite remember what it had been. No doubt it had been snarky as hell in the way that all their conversations ended up being, and probably self-deprecating in a way that he was trying to be better about. Something that the version of him that Sasha knew currently was definitely not.

“Ancient Martian Death Mask,” he said, trying to play off the pause as a gathering of his thoughts. “Discovered by Croesus Kanagawa during a stream special where he blew up a lot of ancient Martian death traps to get at a burial chamber. I don’t see why Dark Matters would care about it.”

“Dark Matters doesn’t, per say,” Sasha said. She shuffled something on her desk, out of his view. 

“Careful there Sasha, you might actually sound like you do care,” Juno ribbed at her. 

She lowered the dark tinted glasses she wore to give him an annoyed glare that he couldn’t help but grin at. Despite the strangeness of the whole possible time travel issue, it was nice to talk to her without the specter of their last conversation hanging over him. Not that she had been wrong in what she had said then; he hadn’t been willing to hear it. Whatever the case, he might be able to salvage that relationship from his own former machinations. 

“They’re not concerned with the Death Mask itself, more with the fact that someone was able to infiltrate the Kanagawa mansion without being seen on any of their cameras, murder Croesus Kanagawa, and paint your name on the wall above the crime scene in his blood.”

“I thought that was him. I think he was wearing the same shoes when he kicked my teeth in. So, you calling me to offer protection or do you need my help with his murder case, because I’m pretty sure that isn’t part of my job description ever since I got kicked out of the HCPD.”

“You see a murder with you named as the next victim and you think case?”

“Hey, I said protection first.”

“Not that you’d ever take it,” she snarked at him with a sadly fond smile gracing her lips. 

“I’d rather not end up on an asteroid in the ass end of nowhere. So, what’s the catch?”

“Well, originally my superiors thought it would be a conflict of interest to have you involved, but the Kanagawa’s specifically requested you investigate.”

“Probably so they can try and kill me.”

“What did you do to warrant that?”

“Saved Cecil. Well, most of him,” Juno amended. “It also might be because my contract with them forbade the use of my face, likeness, or name in any of their stream specials. Like that one you saw. Apparently it was a hit.”

“Hmmm. Regardless, you wouldn’t be going in alone. We’re sending an Agent to assist you. He can fill you in on the relevant details.”

For a moment, Juno felt like time froze. Unlike the conversation he was currently having with Sasha, he could remember every detail of what would happen next. Of Nureyev, his genteel facade of Agent Rex Glass hiding the master thief as easily as Duke Rose or Peter Ransom. But this Nureyev wouldn’t know him; this one wouldn’t be as in love with Juno as he was in with him. As much as he would have wanted to, he couldn’t hide the way his face fell, time rushing back with his pained exhalation. 

“Don’t be like that, Juno,” Sasha said, taking his sudden change of attitude as sullen annoyance. “His name is Agent Rex Glass. I’ve never met him, but his record is spotless, and he specializes in issues of this variety.”

“Murders?” Juno heard himself ask, his mouth running on a track that he was halfway starting to remember. 

“The occult.”

“Sasha-”

“Goodbye Juno. I’ll see you in another fifteen years.”

The comms beeped, her image disappearing. Juno huffed a laugh that she couldn’t hear.

“More like three months,” he muttered, standing up. 

Knowing how soon Nureyev would appear, Juno made a split decision. He grabbed his blaster, shoving it into his coat pocket with a few extra carts that he could load once he was away from the office. Walking over to the window, he grabbed it and began to lift, only for it to get caught on something that he couldn’t remember it ever catching on before. With a grunt he forced it a little higher, just enough that he could squeeze through. As he began to leverage himself through the much smaller space, he heard Rita call his name. Closing his eyes, he tried to shove the window open a little further, only for it to fly open with a bang as the door to his office opened. 

Instead of Nureyev, Rita walked through the door. Upon seeing him halfway through the window, she put her hands on her hips and gave him a disappointed look. Juno sighed, stepping out of the window and back into the office, which made her break out into a huge smile. It was easier to focus on her than Nureyev who had sidled in behind her.

“You didn't think I was going to let you get out that easily, did ya?” she asked, steamrolling on before he could reply. “I heard what Agent Wire said, and yes, I might have tapped into your comms call, but really you need someone to make sure that your jobs are on the up and up, and then I heard her say that she would be sending someone. And I know you, Boss, which meant that you were going to try and sneak out before they even got here, even though I think that you two working together would be great, seeing as you always seem to end up in situations where you need someone else watching your back.

“Not that I can’t do that, but you always end up needing something looked up and I mean, I could look it up on my comms but it wouldn’t be as quick as the set-up I’ve got here. Not to mention that I’ve got some streams that I’ve been meaning to look up because I’ve heard things and if I can catch up I might be in a good spot when crazy stuff happens that I won’t miss too much.”

Juno blinked, his eyes going to Nureyev’s for a split second before refocusing on her. “I’m... sorry?”

“It’s fine,” Rita said, waving him off. He could tell that the apology meant something to her, if the big smile that broke over her face was anything to go by. “Now, this here is Agent Rex Glass from Dark Matters. Be nice to him.”

“I’m always nice,” Juno said petulantly. Rita rolled her eyes behind her cat’s eye glasses, turning and stepping around Nureyev. 

“You have quite the secretary,” Nureyev said as she closed the door behind her. 

“Nothing else in the galaxy like her,” Juno agreed, shutting his window before any significant amount of sand could follow him back inside. “Agent... Glass, right?”

Nureyev smiled. It was so very different from the ones that Juno had grown to know, just barely enough teeth to give the impression of a welcoming smile. It also failed to reach his eyes, the edges of which were tight as he met them. Altogether it wasn’t anything different than what Juno would have, should have, expected from a Dark Matters agent who was forced to work with a civilian. 

“If you’d prefer, Detective.”

“I would,” he said. If nothing else, it would help him differentiate this Nureyev from his own until he could figure out what had happened. “Agent Wire said you could fill me in?”

“Of course, Detective. Perhaps on our way? I would hate to leave the crime scene waiting any longer.”

Juno nodded, grabbing his car keys from the desk and heading out the door. Rita looked up from her streams for a moment, giving the two of them a once over, before pulling out her comms unit. Nureyev... Glass kept up a steady one-sided conversation as they drove to the Kanagawa mansion, appearing unconcerned by the grunts and one-worded answers that Juno was giving him. Not that he would have had any reason to think anything of them, Juno kept reminding himself. 

Refocusing himself, Juno thought about what he knew was about to happen. Having the answer from the beginning made the deceptions and traps that were waiting for them child-like. Min’s manipulations were hard to unravel, especially if he wanted to save Cassandra. He could remember what she had looked like when they had gotten her out of Hoosegow, the way that she had flinched away from every person that stepped near her. She had looked worse than some of the homeless people on the streets of Oldtown, which said something about the former city. Current city.

So his first step was keeping Cassandra out of prison. He looked sideways at Glass, who was currently lecturing about what was known about the Martians and their belief systems. It was almost funny, knowing what he did about the Martians and their ultimate fate, to hear Glass speak about it. Of course, what he did know was what had really happened with Croesus and Cassandra. Juno had never broached the subject with him, but he could remember the complete lack of surprise on his face when Juno had walked through the crime as Cassandra held them hostage. Even later, back at his apartment, he hadn’t asked if Nureyev had watched Croesus die like Cassandra had. It hadn’t really mattered.

But now it did. He doubted Glass would speak up and contradict him, but there was always a chance that he would surprise him. After all, at this point in time Nureyev had only been interested in the Mask. And, if the way their introduction in his office had gone, Glass wasn’t interested in Juno in the slightest. Juno shook himself mentally, filing away that thought for future investigation. Cassandra was the linchpin for everything that happened in this case. Everything else was just window dressing.

“My, this is certainly an impressive estate,” Glass exclaimed as Juno parked the car.

“Yeah, just wait until you see the interior,” Juno said. “Give me a moment, would you? I forgot to tell Rita something about my last case that I need her to follow up on.”

“I’m sure it would be no problem-”

“My client wouldn’t like to have Dark Matters involved in their business,” Juno cut him off. “It will just take a moment, and we can get back into this horror show.”

“Alright Detective,” Glass said, that same faked smile on his face. “I’ll just walk over to the doors, then.”

“Thanks.”

Juno watched him as he walked to the entranceway of the Kanagawa mansion, typing in a comms number as Nureyev... Glass’ hips swayed.

“Steel? Why are you calling?”

“Do friends need a reason to call, Vicky?”

“I get the feeling you’re calling for something other than old times, Steel. You interested in doing business or do I need to drop this call faster than you can say sorry?”

Juno cracked a smile. “Actually, it’s a twofer deal. I’ve got some information that I think you’d be interested in, and a chance for you to get someone else to owe you a big favor.”

“Thought you didn’t play that side of the fence, Steel,” Vicky said, leaning over her desk. “You made that very clear when you worked for me.”

“Things change,” Juno prevaricated. “You interested?”

“Information first. I’ll decide how much it’s worth.”

“Fine. You’ve got a mole in your organization. You’ve had cars go missing lately?”

“How did you know about that?” she snarled.

“I keep my ear to the ground. Good enough?”

“You know who the mole is?”

“I just heard about the jacking, Vicky. It wasn’t hard to figure that it was one of your people when I looked at it for a minute. It’s not like car theft is common in Minerva Heights.”

She looked away from her comms for a moment, her brow furrowed. “You hear anything else about this, I’m the first to know.”

“Deal. You interested in the second half now?”

“They better be worth it.”

“Trust me, you’ll be getting a good deal out of it. How easily can you set up a hit that looks like it was already completed?”

A feral gleam appeared in Vicky’s eye as she met his. “Not easily. And not inexpensively.” She leaned back in her chair, tapping something out on a keyboard. “Is your client good for what this will cost them?”

“More than.”

“You got a name you want on this contract?”

“Min Kanagawa.”

Vicky drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. “I’m not interested in going to war with the Kanagawas, Steel. And Min’s vindictive. I got a wife and son to think about.”

“She won’t come near you,” Juno said. “Trust me. I’ll have someone calling you in half an hour to manage payments.”

She nodded, cutting the call without exchanging any farewells. Knowing as little as he did about how any of that stuff worked, Juno imagined she had her Vixens starting on the project before the call was even over. Cassandra wouldn’t be happy about owing Vicky whatever favor she would wrangle out of the stream star, but Juno imagined it was better than months in Hoosegow. With a sigh, he stepped out of the car and jogged over to where Glass was admiring the exterior. Or, knowing Nureyev, calculating the best way to scale the facade to enter undetected.

“Any issues, Detective?” he asked as Juno strode past him and through the front doors. 

Juno shook his head, his eyes darting to the camera that he could see pointing at the door that they needed to go through to access the rest of the mansion. The entryway was the only room in the entire mansion that had no cameras taping it. Two Kanagawas fell into step behind them as they walked over to the sign-in desk. Juno looked over the paper that was handed to him, noting that it kept his stipulations about his image being used in any stream, and signed it. Before Nureyev could sign another paper, one without those conditions,Juno passed him the page.

“He’s with me,” Juno said.

The concierge looked as if he would argue, but quailed under Juno’s glare. It didn’t feel as powerful as it had when there was only one eye, but he could work with it. Hell, he had worked with it for thirty-eight years. Glass signed below Juno, before handing the page back to the concierge. The two Kanagawas behind them stepped back to their position at the doors as the concierge told them that they were expected in the art gallery. Juno let his shoulders slump forward as he and Glass walked down the hallways. 

He hadn’t noticed it the first time, how Glass had led them to the art gallery. It hadn’t been until the hidden door in Cecil’s hell corridors that he had even suspected anything really was wrong with Rex Glass. Even then he had been willing to put it off as his annoyance with Dark Matters assigning an agent to follow him around. For all that Nureyev was good at playing parts around other people, he had slipped up more around Juno than even he had anticipated. 

Not that this one had. If anything, Glass was exactly what he appeared to be. It... hurt to have him act so differently from how Juno remembered him being during the case. There had been none of the terrible flirting or asking him to dinner to discuss the particulars of the case. He was treating him like a mark, someone he could use and discard on his way to whatever his next heist was. Glass seemed content to lead as they wound closer and closer to the art gallery, no questions about the Kanagawas or their family bubbling up. 

In fact, Glass seemed nervous. Juno couldn’t remember him being that way before, but he was also aware of how self-absorbed he had been. How he still was on his bad days, though he had been working on getting better. Opening up to Rita, and even his talks with Nureyev, had helped in ways that years of therapy hadn’t. It had also helped him get a better feel on Nureyev, the small things that gave away his emotions. They weren’t always easy to understand, especially when he was in one guise or another, but Juno couldn’t shake the certainty that Glass was nervous.

“Allow me to get the door, Detective,” Glass said, interrupting his train of thought as they came upon the gallery.

Juno rolled his eyes, pretending not to see the tiny glass syringe that Glass secreted away to a pocket. He would have missed it if he hadn’t already known what he was about to do. Or if he hadn’t had a few lessons from the man himself after stealing the Globe of Reaches Far. It had become something of a game between them on the Carte Blanche. Juno had lost more often than not, Nureyev catching his hand as he tried to slip something out of his pockets. It had helped hone his skills, and he had gotten better at keeping Nureyev from fishing things out of his own pockets. Or, rather, slipping things into them. 

“I can get a door,” Juno replied, but stepped through at Glass’ gesture.

“Forgive me, chivalry runs in the bloodline,” Glass lied through his teeth. “ ‘Show your heart through your deeds,’ Mother always said.”

“Sure,” Juno said, rolling his eyes as he passed. “You keep your heart to yourself and I’ll do the same, Glass.”

It would be easier for both of them if they did. Glass wasn’t  _ his _ Nureyev; it was possible that in this alternate universe that he had found himself in that they were never meant to be to one another what Nureyev was to him. Which wasn’t too great, because Juno still hadn’t figured out how he had come to be here or how he was supposed to get back. Or if he could even get back.

“Incredible!”

Of course it was. Just like the first time he had walked in here, Juno looked around at the art that covered the walls and the statues that stood around the floor. This time, however, he also scanned the room for the cameras that would be turned on the moment Min needed them to get Cassandra’s confession. It was a little harder to pick them out without the red lights that showed they were on, but he supposed it was better that they were off. Even with the stipulations in his contract, he doubted that the Kanagawas didn’t have footage of him backed up somewhere in their hard drives. And it was better for Nur- for Glass that they didn’t have any footage of him.

“Perhaps it’s where he wanted to die all along,” Glass said as Juno finished his scan.

“I doubt it,” he replied with a snort.

It was hard to keep track of everything, to keep this night from going on a similar track as it had the first time. It was hard enough to remember sharp sentences that he had passed off to everyone in an attempt to keep them from getting close to him. Despite his reticence, Glass seemed to be warming up to him if the way he kept sneaking glances over the edge of his sunglasses was any indication. And it was... comforting. For all that Glass wasn’t his Nureyev, he apparently was putting off the same attitude that had drawn him in before. The problem with that was that Juno couldn’t fall in love, or lust, or whatever it was that they had like the first time they had met. 

“You would know him better than I, Detective,” Glass agreed. “Still, dying surrounded by all of this... It’s certainly something.”

“Better than where most people find themselves dying on Mars.”

“Oh? And where would you imagine yourself dying?”

Juno froze. Images of the Martian tomb, of Miasma’s face disappearing as the Egg of Purus went off, were overlaid with the endless expanse of red Martian sand. For a moment it was almost like he was back there, radiation beating into his skin and cooking his insides faster than a synth-ham in the oven. Miasma’s scream echoed in the empty desert, tapering off into Sarah Steel’s mad laughter. 

A hand tentatively laid on his shoulder brought him back. “Juno?”

“I try not to,” Juno said, shaking Glass off. “Think about it, I mean.”

“Ah,” Glass said. “That’s... surprising.”

“Thanks, I try.”

“Though I suppose with the curse hanging over you, you wouldn’t have to wonder much. Did you know that the legends state that Grim’s ghost keeps its victims alive in a state of semi-eternal torment-”

“You really know how to cheer a lady up, don’t you,” Juno said, cutting him off as he strode further into the art gallery. “And there’s no such thing as a curse, Glass. Even if there was, why would Grim’s ghost bother to write in Solar-”

“Boo!”

Even knowing that Cassandra was in the room somewhere didn't stop him from jumping and letting out a yelp as she stepped out from behind a sarcophagus. She looked good, her serrated teeth gleaming in the low light of the art gallery as she laughed. Cassandra punched him in the arm, rocking him backwards just enough for him to knock into Glass, the fake agent steadying him again. In a split instant, Juno made a decision. As Glass helped him regain his feet, he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out the glass syringe Glass had grabbed from beneath the art gallery doorknob. With a slight nod to Nureyev in thanks, Juno disguised his sliding the syringe into the pocket without his keys with a returning light slap to Cassandra’s shoulder.

“Good to see you too, Cass,” he said. “Nice night for a murder.”

If he hadn’t known... well, Juno couldn’t say that he would have noticed it. He hadn’t noticed it last time; the minute flinch, the way her hands shook for a moment before she crossed her arms over her chest. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the acid washed strands glowing against the dark leather of her jacket.

“Straight to business, Juno? I remember you being a bit more fun.”

“I still am, occasionally. When I wasn’t called someplace on business.”

“Yeah, I was a bit surprised when Min said you were on the way. Much less with some pencil pusher dogging your steps. Who’s the suit?”

“Agent Rex Glass, Ms. Kanagawa,” Glass introduced himself. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she said dismissively. “It’s going to be hell around here for the next couple of days, what with all the meetings with actuaries, funeral directors, the  _ writers _ -”

“Using us as a reason to get out of a few of those?” Juno asked. 

“Count yourself lucky you have that clause in your contract,” she replied. “Min would have snapped you up otherwise.”

“And Croesus would have killed me within a month.”

“Please, it would have been a week, tops.”

“While I hate to interrupt,” Glass said, his tone stating the complete opposite, “we are here to examine the crime scene. Would you mind leading us to it, Ms. Kanagawa?”

“It’s not like there’s a rush. Dad’s not going anywhere.”

“I’m sure Agent Glass doesn’t mean anything by it, Cass,” Juno said, shooting a confused look at him. Glass simply raised an eyebrow, anything that Nureyev could have given away hidden behind the mask. “But he does have a point.”

“Fine,” Cassandra said with an exaggerated groan. “It’s this way.”

She began to lead them through the art gallery, dodging around displays with barely a glance back at them. Juno let out a sigh as Glass stepped up next to him, his shades down and a contented smile on his lips. A few mechanical groans followed them as they walked near the tomb doors that he knew hid Cecil’s homicidal playground. He shivered, the reaction involuntary. Unfortunately, Glass noticed, his head tilting towards him.

“Are you alright, Detective?”

“Not the biggest fan of noises coming out of nowhere, Glass,” Juno replied. “Especially when I’m somewhere someone wants to kill me.”

“They don’t appear to be coming out of nowhere. That tomb behind us seems to be where they originate from.”

“This isn’t a graveyard-” Juno paused, his eyes narrowing as his gaze swept over a few sarcophagi that littered the room. “Cassandra, please tell me there aren’t any mummies in here.”

She turned back, her teeth bared in a canary-eating grin “Of course there are, Juno. Dad always was one for authenticity.”

“When it suited him, sure,” he groused. “So he put a tomb in here too?”

Another monstrous moan echoed through the room, sending a shiver down Juno’s spine. Cassandra giggled, barely noticing Glass stepping past her and walking to the door. 

“Jumpy, much?”

“Well, apparently there’s a mummy after me. Forgive me if a creepy noise from a tomb is a bit concerning.”

“Forget the noise,” she said. “Dad’s just through here. His private collection.”

“Allow me to get the door,” Glass said, opening it for them. 

“I thought we were already in his private collection, Cass.”

“Camera crews aren’t allowed in here,” Cassandra told him, stepping through the door. “This room is for stuff Dad never wanted going on stream until he got tired of it.”

“Which means that there’s no recordings to show if there was anyone else in here with him last night,” Juno said as he followed her through. “What about the cameras in the gallery? They must have shown something.”

“Those only turn on during streams, and then only with Dad’s permission. There’s nothing on them.”

“Lucky.”

The scene looked exactly the same as it had last time, Croesus’ body half hanging out of the display case. Juno closed his eyes, fighting down the wave of nausea at seeing the almost ludicrous amount of blood that spattered the glass walls. As he opened them again he saw Cassandra looking behind a large decorative vase. When she saw him looking, she straightened, her furrowed brow smoothing as she adopted a queasy mask. 

“Incredible!”

Juno rolled his eyes at Glass’ exclamation. While not the showiest of Nureyev’s personas, he generated just enough annoyance that the average person wouldn’t want to interact with him for longer than necessary. It was almost amusing, the way the personality worked just enough to get him what he wanted, while also being just forgettable enough that Cassandra wouldn’t even remember his name when the night was over. 

“Yeah, it’s... quite the scene,” Cassandra agreed, her eyes skating over the case before returning to them.

“The death threat’s a little much though, don’t you think?  _ You’re next Juno Steel _ , I mean, it's almost like they knew it was the only way to get me to come here.”

“Certainly interesting,” Glass said, stepping up behind him. 

If it had been anyone else, Juno would have stepped away. But his cologne was comforting in comparison to the wet, rusty smell that spilled from the display case. And he knew that Nureyev would have his back, even if things went wrong. He always had before, even when they hadn’t been on the best terms.

Juno bit his lip, anchoring himself back in the present. His past. With a Nureyev that didn't know him. That hadn’t been chained back to back with him in Cecil’s death game, hadn’t robbed the Utgard Express, hadn’t spent weeks under Miasma’s tender care. A Nureyev that didn’t know the pain of waking up in a hotel room alone, without the partner he had thought would accompany him through the stars. Perhaps it was better that Glass hadn’t seemed interested in him like Nureyev had when they had met. He was saving himself some heartbreak at least.

“Would you mind if Detective Steel took a closer look, Ms. Kanagawa?”

“I’d rather not,” Juno said before his mind caught up to his mouth. 

“Steel didn’t tell you he’s afraid of a little blood, did he, agent?” Cassandra told Glass.

“You and I have  _ very  _ different opinions on what classifies little, Cass.”

“If you would prefer, I can-”

“It’s fine, Glass,” Juno said. “It’s not like there’s enough blood in there to paint my car or anything.”

“If you’re sure.”

Juno gave him a tight smile, something that his Nureyev would have recognized as a lie. Glass’ brow creased for a moment, but smoothed out before Juno could even be sure that it had been there. Taking a deep breath, Juno walked over to the case, stepping around Croesus’ legs that splayed out of the case. The stench of drying blood and brain matter was just as bad as it had been the first time, but honestly didn’t reach the top five of his worst experiences anymore. Still, he could feel himself swaying as he took a step back from the case, the smell following him. His heel hit Croesus’ leg, and he stumbled, his arms flailing as he prepared to hit the floor.

Instead two arms slid under his, catching him. The scent of Nureyev’s cologne flooded his nose, chasing out the smell of Croesus’ corpse. Despite himself, Juno relaxed into Glass for a moment, the feel of Nureyev’s arms more comforting than he could admit. His brain indulged him for a moment, letting him imagine that the hands that rested across his chest tightened. He shook off the thought just as quickly, regaining his feet.

“Thanks, Glass,” he said. The man looked taken aback before his lips turned up at the edges.

“Of course, Detective,” he replied.

“Oh, barf,” Cassandra interrupted them. Juno looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She returned the look, a cruel smirk on her face.

“You want me to?” he asked her. 

“Yeah, no,” she said. “I think the morticians are going to have a hard enough time figuring out what to do with him. Adding your puke into the matter would just make it worse.”

“Aw, thanks Cass. Always knew that you cared.”

“You wish, Steel. You see anything interesting there before you fell into loverboy’s arms?”

“Just enough to give anyone nightmares for the next year.”

“That’s just the beginning, Detective,” Glass said, taking the spot that Juno had vacated next to the case. He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket, snapping them on before reaching towards the Mask.

Even knowing what was going to happen, Juno winced at the noise that the Mask made as it released what was left of Croesus’ head. Shattered bits of skull and brain matter dripped down onto the suit that he had been wearing, helped along by rivulets of blood. If he hadn’t known that it had been Croesus, Juno would have been hard pressed to identify him. One of the... eye sockets was completely gone, the other faring a little better in the fact that there was actually an eye left. Everything between them had been cleaved as the Mask tried to make his one head into three little ones. 

Juno couldn’t help thinking back to the Tomb, the carvings that he and Nureyev had pondered over during their captivity. Judging the Mask by those, he doubted that it was actually a Death Mask as everyone claimed. It would have been the answer that scholars had given, but those scholars had never seen an actual Martian. Not that Juno really had either, though Miasma had obviously counted as enough of one for the Egg of Purus to erase her down to the last molecule. 

“Did you really have to do that?” Juno asked, feeling bile rise in his throat against his will. 

“I am supposed to examine the Mask, Detective,” Glass said, sliding the aforementioned item out from around the remains of Croesus’ head. “Dark Matters is very interested in knowing whether they should take this as an occult threat.”

“You do that then,” Juno said, swallowing heavily. “I’ll just ask Cass some questions.”

“Over here,” Cassandra agreed. “Don’t want you messing up the trophy case even more than it already is.”

“Isn’t it supposed to get blood on it?” Juno replied as he stepped closer to her. Glass looked at him sharply from where he had placed the Mask on the floor. “Those are DNA locks, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “I thought you were incompentent with all that stuff. How’d you recognize them?”

“My secretary,” Juno lied. “Last time we had a stream night the villain was using them or something. To be honest, I wasn’t paying too much attention to the why. Who are they keyed to?”

“The left was Dad’s. The right was keyed to Cecil... and me.”

Juno shot a glance over his shoulder at Glass, who looked to be intent on “examining” the Mask. He tilted his head slightly towards the door before he took a few steps in that direction. After a second of hesitation, Cassandra followed him. The noises of Glass’ tests on the Mask were loud enough that Juno was sure that he couldn’t overhear them. 

Dropping his voice to a whisper just in case, he asked her, “It was an accident, right?”

“What?” she replied in the same tone. “I didn’t... How did you know?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that? Or do you want my help in getting away with it?”

“You? Mr. Straight-Laced Detective? Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend,” he told her. “And I don’t think you should be the one to go away for this. So, tell me what happened.”

Cassandra’s face crumpled, the words streaming out of her so quickly that Juno would have had a hard time keeping up if he didn’t already know what she had said. There was the added benefit of not having to worry about a gun pointed at him or Min’s smug face smirking over Cassandra’s shoulder. At the end of it there were tears running down Cassandra’s face, and if it wasn’t for waterproof mascara he had no doubt that there would be black streaks following them. A sob left her chest as she finished her confession, her shoulders hunching inwards as she wrapped her arms around herself. Juno took a step forward, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her head gently into his shoulder, at just the right angle that he could whisper into her ear.

“I can’t do anything about the way you feel,” he told her. “But I know that it was an accident. You didn’t mean for him to die.”

He felt Cassandra begin to pull away, and he let her go. She wiped at her eyes, composing herself as quickly as only someone who spent their life acting on streams could. Juno smiled, reaching up and swiping a stray tear from her chin. She gave him a watery smile, the composure that she had drawn around herself faltering.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked. 

Juno reached into his pocket and pulled out his comms and handed it to her. “Call the last number on this again. They’ll help get everything in place and fill you in on the details. Do you think you can get Min here in about an hour?”

“Probably.”

“Be prepared to act your heart out when you do,” Juno told her. 

“I can act circles around anyone,” Cassandra said. 

Juno snorted despite himself. She glared at him, the action somewhat undercut by the redness that clung around her eyes. Those same eyes darted over his shoulder, and Juno noticed that the noises of Glass’ tests had stopped. He turned to look, only to see the man himself only a few feet away, the Mask held carefully in two gloved hands.

“Is everything alright?”

There was just the right amount of concern in his voice, tempered by the overly ingratiating tone. It had an undercurrent that Juno couldn’t place his finger on, though it reminded him of Nureyev in a strange way. More like the way he had been during Zolatova’s party, as if he wasn’t sure how to react around Juno. Which was fair, considering that this was the first time that Nureyev... that Glass had ever met him. It was more than likely that Juno had lied to himself on the way that he had acted or let the memories fade behind rose-colored glasses.

“Fine, Glass,” Juno said. “Right Cass?”

“Just realizing that he’s actually dead,” she agreed, already committing to the act. “It just doesn’t seem possible.”

“Yeah, well, everyone dies.”

He really should have expected the punch. As it was, Juno could feel his ribs creak from the strike, Cassandra having pulled it just enough to give him a bruise instead of breaking them. 

“Bad time, right,” he wheezed. “Now, where did you say Cecil was?”

“In his workshop,” Cassandra said, playing along. 

“Even last night?” Glass asked, setting the Mask on a display case. 

“Min grounded him. He’s been buying ancient torture devices, caught the bug for collecting like dearly departed dad. And that stuff’s not cheap.”

“She cut him off?” 

Cassandra rolled her eyes at Juno’s question. “At least until he can give her a show that makes them worth it. He’s been working really hard on the pitch for it, so he’ll probably be let out soon.”

“Pity,” Glass said. 

“What he said. Where’s his workshop?”

“We passed by it on the way in. Remember that spooky tomb?”

Juno sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. It had been too much to hope for that Cecil had changed, or that he wasn’t planning on ambushing them for his show. Cassandra smirked as he wiped his hand down his face and fixed her with an annoyed look. She gave him a shrug. 

“I’ll want to talk more later,” he told her. 

“Always with the questions,” she replied as she rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to make a few calls. Get the ball rolling and all that.”

“Of course, Miss Kanagawa,” Glass said, stepping forward and opening the door for her again. “Should we expect anything from your brother?”

“Juno knows what he’s like.”

“Thanks, Cass,” Juno said to her back as she left the room. 

Glass shot him a confused look, which he waved off and walked out past him. The fake Dark Matters agent followed him out, his long steps easily letting him catch up. Juno glanced at him out of the corner of his right eye, the sensation of doing so odd. Every now and again his vision swam and turned black, as if his brain forgot how to interpret what the eye was showing him. In this moment, however, he could see the pensive look on Glass’ face.

“Are you sure we should go in here, Detective?” Glass asked as they stood in front of the tomb doors. As if to punctuate his point, a metallic groan emanated from behind the stone.

“I’d rather not,” Juno replied. “But we need to talk to Cecil, see if he was involved in what happened to Croesus.”

Glass nodded, grabbing the door and pulling it open. “Do you think that he did it?”

“Cecil? No, guy’s a daddy’s boy through and through. But he might have seen something, or have some idea of what happened.”

Like the last time, a corridor that could have been from the Carte Blanche stretched out in front of them. Juno let out a deep sigh and unholstered his blaster, spinning in a set of cartridges. He held the blaster low, his grip light and relaxed, but ready to come up at a moment’s notice to shoot a Cameraman. 

“Well, this certainly doesn’t look like the inside of a tomb,” Glass commented as they began to walk down the hall. “Perhaps more like an...”

Juno looked at him as he paused in his statement. Glass’ eyes were distant as he stared down the hallway, his lips still slightly parted. The dim running lights glinted off the dark sunglasses that hid his clever eyes. The glasses themselves should have tipped him off the first time that Juno had lived this day. The diamonds, and he had no doubt that they actually were diamonds, embedded in the arms of sunglasses were probably worth more than a Dark Matters agent would make in a year, if not a lifetime. They were, however, something that fit Peter Nureyev to a T. 

“An abandoned spaceship, I suppose,” he continued, a bit of bravado in his voice in an attempt to disguise the pause. 

“Don’t sound too disappointed,” Juno said, taking a few steps down the hall. 

“Oh, hardly. Plenty of supernatural events have taken place on sunken ships. If you weren’t already cursed by the ghost of Grim’s Mask, I would have cautioned you against being so glib about it, Detective.”

“You really think I’m cursed?”

“It’s certainly possible. I believe that there are things bigger than us, outside of our comprehension. The universe is full of mysteries: where we go when we die, why some objects bring luck or misery wherever they go... what strange forces bring two strangers together to discover the answer to a murder.”

“I’m pretty sure the answer to the last one is your employer, Glass.”

Glass chuckled, even though Juno hadn’t really meant to make a joke. In a way, he supposed, it was true. Even Nureyev probably thought it was funny, tucked away as he was behind his disguise. After all, Miasma had sent him to steal Grim’s Mask.

“Why so cranky, Detective?”

“Really?” Juno asked back. “We’re walking through a creepy hallway that could be a part of any number of my secretary’s horror streams, and you’re worried about that?”

“If we’re to work together, I would prefer if we cooperate rather than be at each other's throats all the time.”

“I’m not - Look, we’re not in the greatest of situations right now, so I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but I’d rather not have one of Cecil’s experiments rip me to shreds while we kissed and made up.” 

“Oh, Detective, if you wanted that I’d -”

“Shhh!”

Juno cut him off before he could say anything else. He could hear the faint whirr and click of a Cameraman’s lense, as well as the sound of metal sliding against metal. Glass came to a halt on his right side, a hand disappearing into his pocket to grab what Juno suspected was the handle of a knife. Juno watched as he scanned the corridor, his gaze snapping to the ceiling last. He relaxed slightly when he saw nothing, although Juno doubted that would be true for long.

“You think this is a trap?” Glass asked, sliding his hand out of his pocket and casually clasping his behind his back.

“It’s definitely a trap,” Juno replied, letting a bit of sarcasm into his tone. He paused, then shrugged slightly. “Or it's one of Cecil’s games, which isn’t much better.”

“No trust in your fellow man?”

“I’m pretty sure that Cecil’s televised himself killing a guy before. I wouldn’t put it past him to devise something like this as a way of getting back at me.”

“Getting back at you?”

“I rescued him from some mobsters. Well, most of him, anyway.”

“And you think that this would make him want some sort of revenge?” Glass said, taking a few steps down the hall. 

Juno followed, his eyes darting to the ceiling every few feet. “With Cecil... It’s hard to know. He’s a genius, crazy, but a genius. I don’t think his brain works on the same level as to come up with some sort of revenge plot.”

“An overture of friendship, then.”

“Yeah, if friendship includes homicide.”

“You really need to look into getting better friends if they think murdering you is a way to show that.”

“Please, those are the best sort of friendships,” Juno said, forcing a laugh. 

Glass looked at him sharply over his shoulder. Juno flinched at the look, tearing his eyes away with a bit of effort. Even through the sunglasses, he could tell that the flippant remark had upset the thief. And while it was disconcerting how easily the detrimental words had come to him, Juno tried to convince himself that they were a part that he was playing. After all, Rex Glass had come in expecting the old Juno Steel, the one who had a witty one-liner for every person who was trying to kill him and a personality that would chase off anyone else.

And that was what he was trying to do here. At least, what he hoped he would do. After all, Rex Glass only needed Juno Steel to steal the Mask, and then he would be gone on a solar breeze. Better for both of them that he left with an intense dislike for Juno than a blossoming affection that had left him to wake up alone in a hotel room. Even if it would break his heart.

So consumed within his own thoughts, Juno didn’t notice that Glass had stopped walking, or that he had turned around to face him. An arm wound around his waist as he ran into Glass’ chest, holding him up even though Juno doubted he was going to fall over. He looked up at Glass, who to his surprise was smiling softly at him. It was something so Nureyev that it took everything Juno had not to press himself closer to the man. Instead, he placed his palms against his chest to try and leverage himself away. 

“You really are something, aren’t you,” Glass said as Juno pushed him away.

“That supposed to mean something?” Juno asked as he brushed his free hand down his duster. Not that the motion would do anything to get rid of the smell of cologne that had transferred from their contact. 

“Nothing, Detective,” Glass assured him, although Juno would bet that his eyes were sparkling behind those sunglasses. “Nothing at all.”

“Well, if you and nothing are well enough acquainted, we’d better keep moving. I’d rather not find out what that noise is.”

“Ah, yes. Do you have any idea what it could be?”

“Maybe,” Juno lied. “It sounded almost like a-”

The Cameraman dropped behind them, close enough that Juno could feel the breeze as its grappling hook hands just missed his back. If Cecil hadn’t programmed the creature to lure them towards his giant danger room, Juno would have thought that it was luck that the Cameraman hadn’t taken off his head. Before he could whip around and fire his blaster straight through its lens, Glass had grabbed him by the arm and was dragging him down the hallway. Juno swore and tore his arm out of his grasp, turning back to fire at the Cameraman.

Only to miss, the shot going wide by over three feet and burning a scorch mark into the steel paneling of the hallway. 

“The hell?” Juno muttered to himself before he found himself being grabbed by Glass again and tugged into a small alcove. The door slid shut behind him, cutting them off from the Cameraman’s view as it thundered past.

“I’d say this space is preferable to being chased by whatever that thing is, wouldn’t you?” Glass asked as he reclined against the wall. If Juno couldn’t see the faint rise and fall of his chest in the dim light, he would have thought that the thief hadn’t even exerted himself.

“Sure. What is this place anyway?”

“A service room, if I’m not mistaken,” he said. “I believe there’s a cleaning robot of some kind near your foot, so do be careful not to trip over it.”

“Thanks, Glass,” Juno said, tapping the floor with his foot to gather an idea of where it was in relation to him. He let himself lean against the wall, although not in the same devil-may-care way that Glass had arranged himself. “So, do you have a plan?”

“I’m afraid not, Detective. This wasn’t how I saw this evening going.”

“Could be worse,” he replied, rubbing a finger under his right eye. The vision had begun to shift in it again, and he fought the urge to press his fingers into his temple. “I mean, I came here knowing that the Kanagawa’s probably wanted me dead and cooked up some sort of fake curse, and for all that Dark Matters says that they’re interested in the occult, I’d bet the creds I have in my pocket that they’re more interested in getting an in with the local mobs. So, you must have some sort of plan to get out of here.”

“Nothing that can deal with whatever that thing was.”

“A Cameraman. One of Cecil’s genetic experiments. He uses them for all his shows; claims they let him get better angles than a crew would. And they cost less to make than the lawsuits.”

“Ah,” Glass said, before pursing his lips in thought.

Juno took the moment’s reprieve to close his eyes and lean his head against the wall. His right eye had completely shut off during their conversation, the familiar nothingness swallowing his field of vision, before returning with a field of static. At least he knew that the feeling was temporary. Or, as temporary as three months could be. If he was lucky, or unlucky as his lot in life frequently was, he would finally be able to use it only to lose it. He grimaced, remembering the feeling of it popping, the warm wet fluid dripping down his face and sharp pain that had spiked through his skull. Nureyev had never told him what it had looked like, though he had gathered that it hadn’t been good.

“You missed your shot back there.”

“Hmm?” Juno said, drawing himself back from his thoughts.

“I took the liberty of reading your records before our meeting,” Glass explained. “You held numerous sharpshooting awards in the HCPD. And yet you missed.”

“I...”Juno leaned his head against the wall, trying to think of an explanation that didn’t include the fact that he was used to only having one eye. “I didn’t want to piss off Cecil.”

“And here I thought you were of the opinion that he was crazy.”

“I also said genius. I’d rather not destroy his toys.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about him. About all of the Kanagawa’s, in fact.”

“Fishing for information?” Juno asked, slipping a thread of amusement into his voice to disguise his relief at the change in topic. “I ran with them for a bit. Cecil and Cassandra, I mean.”

“And here I thought you were a man of the law, Detective.”

Juno snorted at the accusation. It might have been true of his former self, the one that should have been here with Rex Glass getting tangled in Min’s web so tight that it blinded him. There were precious few lines that Juno would have crossed; framing Min for an accidental death was tap dancing on them. Thankfully his dance teacher had been excellent, and after some time on the Carte Blanche Juno knew how large those lines actually were. 

“I never got involved in any of the family businesses,” he said. “I was more interested in having a good time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’d rather not relive any of that. It wasn’t great, looking back.”

“And yet you’ve maintained a friendship with them,” Glass said. “That’s... admirable.”

“I don’t know if I’d call us friends. Former drinking buddies, maybe. Bad decision pals?”

“Was coming here a bad decision, then?”

“I don’t know yet,” Juno said, standing up from his slouch. “You think that thing’s waiting for us outside?”

Glass tilted his head, before shaking it. “I don’t hear anything, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t waiting to get the drop on us.”

“We can’t stay here all night.”

“Can’t we?”

“I’ve got my own plans, Glass. Watch my back?”

“Certainly.”

And there was the flirtatious tone that Juno remembered. He rolled his eyes as he opened the door, knowing that he probably should say something biting back. Instead, he stuck his head out into the hall, looking both directions before shooting a glance towards the ceiling. Nothing. With a sigh of relief he stepped fully out of the room, his blaster up and ready just in case. 

“Come on,” Juno said, turning towards where he could faintly remember the door to Cecil’s actual workshop being. “The sooner we talk to Cecil, the sooner we can leave this place.”

“Not a fan of spaceships?”

“Depends on the ship.”

“Been on many spaceships?”

“Nope.” Juno caught himself before he said anything about the Carte Blanche. “This door look different to you?”

Through the static in his right eye he could see Glass’ eyebrow arch. “Have you seen any other doors in this hallway, Detective?”

“Well, if you’re going to be like that, you don’t have to deal with the murderous multimillionaire stream star behind this it,” Juno snarked, opening the door.

“I didn’t say that,” Glass said, quickly sliding up behind him and palming the doorknob. 

Juno had half a mind to wonder how he had gotten those glass syringes throughout the mansion, but pushed the thought away. He could always ask Nureyev when he got back to him. Maybe even turn it into one of their ship-night conversations.

“Just keep your eyes open,” Juno murmured, stepping through the door. “And let me do the talking. Cecil can be... a handful.”

“You must know him quite well.”

“Less than you’d think, more than I wanted.”

Like the last time he’d been in here, the room was almost pitch black, with only a few dim running lights to illuminate the chairs in the center of the room. Glass stepped into the room behind him, though he didn’t hear the door slide shut. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he saw Glass fiddling with the access panel, presumably doing something technical to keep it open. Juno turned back around, taking a few steps towards the chairs.

“I get the distinct impression that this is the trap you were talking about,” Glass said, coming up behind him and laying a hand on his arm. “Any thoughts?”

“Spring the trap?” Juno replied, before bringing up his blaster.

Taking a deep breath, Juno let his right eye fall closed. Immediately it was as if the world sharpened, the static that had swum across his vision disappearing. He still wasn’t up to the level that he had been with both of his eyes, or hell, even the Theia, but Juno had forced himself to practice in the small firing range that Jet had set up in the cargo bay of the Carte Blanche. He held the blaster steady, letting his finger barely caress the trigger as he fired. 

The Cameraman crawling towards them through the rafters dropped. It hit the floor with a meaty thud, its limbs twitching for a moment before they fell still. Without warning, the lights in the room were thrown to full brightness.

“Junebug, how could you?”

“I’m not in the mood for games, Cecil,” Juno said, canting his head towards the booth. He could just barely see Cecil through the tinted glass, the stream star’s body gyrating in his excitement... or possible annoyance. “I’m here about a case. Mind talking to me for a minute?”

“Time is ratings, Junebug. I’ve got things to film, so unless you want to negotiate...”

“You know my contract stipulates no appearances, Cecil.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, the pout coming through his words. “Min said you were coming, and I thought-”

“Cecil, when have I ever wanted to be on one of your shows? Can you come down here so we can talk?”

“Fine. Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

“What are friends for?”

He wasn’t prepared for the hundred and thirty pound weight that crashed into him. Cecil wrapped his arms around Juno’s shoulders, their cheeks smushed together as he twirled them in a circle. Juno fought the urge to roll his eyes as he caught what he had said to inspire the reaction. Glass’ eyes caught his over his sunglasses, a twinkle of what anyone else would have called amusement in them. He knew better, of course. Beneath the veneer Nureyev was calculating, the same way he always was on a heist; like he had been with Zolatovna, or when they were breaking into M’tendere’s apartment. 

“Do you really mean that, Junebug?” Cecil asked, pulling back.

This time Juno didn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “What else would we be? Unless you’ve found someone else who will put up with your crap?”

“You say the nicest things!”

Juno saw Glass mouth the word  _ nicest _ , before he straightened and appeared to compose himself. Honestly, Juno was having the hardest time keeping everything straight without Nureyev constantly dropping in and out of Rex Glass’ character. And Juno needed him to be Rex Glass for at least the next few hours. Even though Nureyev would be preferable with his more flexible morals, Rex Glass gave the entire investigation a sense of validity that Juno himself couldn’t. 

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Juno said. “Now, were you here last night?”

“That depends on what you’re investigating,” he said, draping himself over a Cameraman that had come to sit at his feet. “I’m sure I have nothing to do with any sort of terrible things that may have happened in Hyperion last night.”

“I’m not asking about something that happened in Hyperion.”

“If you’re asking about something that happened in our mansion, you know that everyone who comes in signs a waiver, Junebug. Accidental deaths happen, and we’re very sorry that they do, but that’s show business.”

“We’re here about your father’s murder, Mr. Kanagawa,” Glass said, cutting in before Juno could say anything.

“Like a bandaid, huh?” Juno muttered under his breath as Cecil began to tear up.

“Daddy... is dead?”

“I apologize for my bluntness, but we do need to know if you were here last night,” Glass said. “

“What?” Cecil gasped out, dragging a hand across his eyes and smearing his mascara. “Here? No, I was out last night.”

“Your sister told us that you were grounded by your stepmother.”

Juno winced, his mind racing as he tried to think of how to stop Glass from “figuring” out that Cassandra had been the one in the mansion last night. For his part, Cecil seemed to be more concerned with the way his makeup was running, if the increase of tears dripping down his face were any indication. Glass sighed in annoyance, his eyes meeting Juno’s for a minute over the corner of his sunglasses before returning to Cecil.

“You and Cass switching places again?” Juno said. “I bet Min still can’t tell you apart.”

“As if she ever tried,” Cecil replied. “Junebug, do you think my mascara is running convincingly enough?”

“Don’t swipe at it again and you’ll probably convince most people. So you weren’t here last night?”

“I got back early this morning. Cassandra had to help me sneak back in before Min realized that I had been out. Snot or no snot?”

“No one wants to see that,” Juno advised him. “Pinch the skin under your eyes to make it redder if you really want to make it seem like you’ve been crying for awhile. You’ve been down... in here all day since?”

“Of course I have, Junebug,” he told him, taking the advice. “I had the most perfect idea for a new line of cosmetics when I was out and I wanted to work on them. But then Min came by and said that you were coming, and I thought you would have fun on my new show idea-”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“And then you had to go and ruin the surprise. Now you’re telling me that... that Daddum’s is dead!”

Another rush of tears spilled from Cecil’s eyes, a little more believable than the previous. His shoulders hunched in, his flesh arm wrapping around his stomach as if to stop the sobs that were no doubt on their way. Juno took a step forward, his hand coming up to pat Cecil on the shoulder, to give him some sort of comfort. It was only when he was too close that he saw the feral gleam in the stream star’s eyes.

Juno flinched backwards, raising his arm just quickly enough to catch the spike studded fist with it instead of his face. The pain was as bad as it had been the first time, the spikes tearing through his coat sleeve and lodging themselves in his arm. His vision went white, and it took everything in Juno’s power not to strike back at Cecil. It might have made him feel better, but it wouldn’t help the makeshift plan he had made. Then the arm went limp, pulling itself out like dead weight and falling to the floor of the room. 

Cecil was on the ground, and it was only by the rising and falling of his chest that assured Juno that he was still alive. A rapidly reddening mark on his cheekbone spoke to how he had ended up there. Glass stood over him, shaking his hand out with a vicious sneer on his face that was wholly Nureyev. Juno blinked and the expression was gone, Glass coming up next to him and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He pressed it rather ineffectually against the bloody divot that Cecil had made, his lips turning down in a frown as it turned from a pristine white to a shocking crimson. 

“You really didn’t need to knock him out,” Juno found himself saying. 

“I don’t think you have any room to talk, Juno,” Glass replied, pressing the handkerchief against the wound harder. “I thought you were joking about the homicidal overtures of friendship.”

“Well, he hasn’t killed me yet.”

“Not for lack of trying, I imagine.”

“This is better than fighting through a group of mobsters. More blood, though. Laser burns don’t really leave a lot of blood.” Juno swayed, and Glass’ other hand caught his shoulder to steady him. “We should really get out of here before he wakes up.”

“On that we can agree.”

Juno pushed off of Glass, replacing the thief’s hand on the wound with his own. Passing through the jimmied open door, he pressed his shoulder to the wall, allowing it to hold most of his weight as he began to walk down the hallway. Before he could even make it a few steps he felt more than saw Glass come up beside him. A tentative hand was laid on his shoulder, and without meaning to, Juno transferred his weight from the wall to the warm body beside him. 

Nureyev let out an “oof” of surprise as he caught Juno’s weight, before lowering both of them to the floor. Juno let his head loll on Nureyev’s shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne with a faint smile. For his part, Nureyev seemed to be looking down on him with an infatuated look on his face. Part of Juno was yelling at him that this was the exact opposite of what he had wanted to happen, but the part of him that was dealing with blood loss and pain shut that down. 

“Falling for me already, Detective?” 

“You wish,” Juno snorted, even as he leaned further into the loose embrace. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be fine.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie,” Nureyev said, poking at the sodden handkerchief with the hand that Juno hadn’t trapped. “Do you think you could let me up to look for a first aid kit?”

“Sure,” he said, wiggling off of Nureyev’s shoulder. “The wall and I are good friends. Doesn’t smell as good as you.”

“I would think not. Don’t move, please.”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to. Have fun looking for a first aid kit.”

Juno closed his eyes as Nureyev left, probably to find the same first aid kit that he had the first time. Another question that he would have to save to ask him later. It was probably the thing that he loved most about his thief, even if it was like pulling teeth to get him to answer some of them. Although he would probably have said the same about Juno’s reticence to talk about his own past, they had agreed to try and work through both of their issues. Some nights were easier than others; other nights were harsh, with biting words and soft apologies that tried to fix whatever they had said to hurt each other.

He started when Nureyev - no, Glass, this was Rex Glass - knelt next to him. Opening his eyes, he watched as Glass pulled out the stitcher and a bottle of antiseptic. Glass rolled up the sleeve of his coat to expose the wound, and Juno closed his eyes after catching a glimpse of it. It wasn’t pretty, the wound shaped more like a miniature star than a straight cut or slash. 

“Not the worst thing I’ve ever had to handle,” Glass said, coloring his voice with fake cheer. “Now just stay still and let me fix you up.”

“Are you a doctor as well as a special agent?”

“I’ve played at being one before.”

“I bet you have,” Juno grumbled as the machine started. “How long do you think this is going to take?”

“Just a few minutes, I think. Anxious to get back on the case?”

“Never stopped, Glass. Making sure that all the pieces fit was a bit harder.”

“Oh?” he asked. Juno opened his left eye at the almost inaudible nervousness that threaded through the question.

“Yeah,” he said as the machine finished up. “Cecil helped me figure it out, actually.”

“Because he wasn’t in the mansion last night?”

“Which would mean that Cassandra was the only one who could have opened the case,” Juno agreed. “But it’s too simple.”

“Sometimes life is simple,” Glass said as he secreted the stitcher into one of his pockets. “This may sting a little.”

Juno hissed as he dabbed the antiseptic across the row of neat stitches. “If there’s one thing I know about working with the Kanagawas, it’s that nothing is as open and shut as it seems. There’s something else going on here, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got it figured out.”

“You’ve figured out who the killer is?”

“Yeah, and she thought she was so clever. It’s rather ingenious, if you think about it. Granted, I don’t think she intended for it to work out like this, but in the end she profits.”

Glass seemed confused, which was exactly what he wanted. Juno pushed himself to his feet, waving off Glass’ helping hand. The hallway tilted for a second as he opened his eyes, before the right one stopped working again. The nothingness that it gave was comforting, even as it allowed him to gather his balance quicker. He made a quick reminder to himself to drink something other than whiskey when he got back to his apartment, then grimaced when he remembered that the Juno of now probably didn’t have orange juice in his fridge. 

“Don’t overexert yourself now, Detective,” Glass said, his hand coming to rest on the small of Juno’s back. “We have more than enough time-”

The muffled yell for help that came through the tomb doors had Juno raising his eyebrow at the thief. Striding forward, Juno stepped through and into the main art gallery, taking a second to note that the recording lights of the camera’s were on. And, as he and Glass made their way to Croesus’ private gallery, the ones that would have recorded them blinked off. At least it was nice to know that the Kanagawas kept up their end of the contract. Now he had to pull off his.

“I know you did it,” Cassandra said as they walked through the door, her blaster trained on Min. “You thought you would get away with it, but I-”

“Cass?” Juno asked, his heart lodging in his chest as he stepped closer to the two of them. 

“Detective Steel, it’s lovely-” Min said, her voice wavering slightly in her feigned terror. 

“Did you know about this?” Cassandra cut her off, turning so that she was able to see both Min and him. “I thought you were a good guy, Juno. Are you working with her on this?”

Juno took another step forward and put himself between Cassandra’s blaster and Min, ignoring the abortive gasp from Glass. “I was hired to solve this case, Cass.”

The edge of Cassandra’s lips quirked up as he blocked Min’s view of her stepdaughter. She gave him a wink and Juno felt himself relax minutely. Instantly Cassandra’s mask was back up, and she growled in annoyance but holstered her blaster. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of messily folded papers, thrusting them at Juno.

“One of the staff gave these to me,” she said. “Financials for the company. I wasn’t supposed to see them, but someone made a mistake and put them with my files.”

Juno took the papers, feeling the weight of his comms unit inside the folds. He slipped it as discreetly as he could into his hand as he shifted through them, pretending to read the contents. Most of it seemed like financial records, interspersed with what looked like expenditure reports. None of which looked to be turning promising dividends. And then, at the second to last page of expenditures, an amount withdrawn from the Kanagawas account and sent to an account that didn’t appear on any of the other pages.

“Math never was my strong suit,” he said, handing the papers back. “But you just gave me the last piece of the puzzle that I needed.”

“What puzzle?” Min asked.

Juno turned around to face her, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a smirk. “The one about why Croesus was murdered. It wasn’t a bad play, but it was a little hasty on your part, Min.”

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning, Detective Steel,” she said, her tone turning frosty.

“Agent Glass, how much would you say an assassination would cost?” Juno asked instead of answering her directly. 

“I suppose it would depend on the target,” he said, playing along just as Juno hoped he would. 

“And if the target’s as well known as Croesus, I bet that number goes up.”

“Oh, considerably.”

“How much was Croesus costing you, Min?” Juno said, turning back to her. “Between his necropolis collection and Cecil’s torture machines, they were bleeding the company dry, weren’t they? It’s been awhile since they’ve come up with anything that’s really made you some creds, hasn’t it.”

“I’ve supported my family in all of their endeavors,” she replied. 

“That’s not exactly true though, is it?” he countered. “You’ve been making Cecil sell back whatever he’s bought. Only, you couldn’t do that with Croesus, could you? For all that you pull the strings, he was the one who controlled the wallet. And you couldn’t stop him from spending every cred you made.”

“Do you have a point?” 

“Yeah, actually, I do. You put a hit out on Croesus, and then when your assassin botched it and the Mask killed him instead, you had to do damage control. And that led you to me. Glass, you know the best way to get Juno Steel involved in a case?”

“Hiring you?” he asked.

“A death threat,” Juno retorted. “Having you tag along only made things better for her. After all, Dark Matters is interested in the Mask. Having you along would only help distract me and allow her to drive us in the directions she wanted.”

“It was rather odd that we didn't meet with her,” Glass agreed. “And she sent-”

“Me to greet you,” Cassandra said. 

“That was the plan, wasn’t it,” Juno said, playing it up like a revelation. “You were going to frame Cass for it. It explains the glass syringes I found under one of the doorknobs too.”

He pulled the syringe he had stolen from Glass’ pocket, letting the few drops of blood within glimmer in the light. Min’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything. Juno handed the syringe to Cassandra as he took a step closer to her.

“Croesus had DNA locks installed so that you couldn’t get at the Mask. It must have been awful knowing that he distrusted you that much, but that he trusted Cecil and Cassandra enough to make them the other keys. And Cecil loved Croesus, so he wouldn’t have helped you if it meant betraying his dad. Which left Cassandra, who just hated you. Must have been an easy enough decision to make.” 

“She’s unstable,” Min said, her words rushed as her eyes darted between the three of them. “And she’s obviously convinced the two of you in her delusions. I talked with her doctor, of course, and we were planning on starting some new medications-”

“I’m clean, goddamnit,” Cassandra shouted, her hand reaching for her blaster again. Juno stepped towards her and laid his hand on her arm, and she took a deep, calming breath. “I’m clean,” she repeated. “I’ve been clean for years.”

“And you-” Juno paused, as if mentally correcting himself, “sorry, Cecil, have connections in Hoosegow. Enough that you could feed her whatever drugs you needed to keep her docile and everyone else from questioning her guilt. Am I close, Min?”

“You couldn’t prove that even if it was true, Detective Steel,” she said sharply. 

“I bet if I hand over those papers to the HCPD they’ll find the proof.”

“I’ll admit you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” she told him. “After all, disappearing one washed-up detective is easy enough, but Dark Matters is another complication.”

“One outside of your normal matters of persuasion,” Glass agreed. Juno glanced at him, noting the way that his arms were crossed over his chest, his hands hidden from view. 

“Everyone has a price,” Min countered. “I’m sure that if I sent them the Mask with your corpse they’d be content.”

“That’s assuming you’d kill me,” Glass said with a grin that was all Nureyev. “And I highly doubt you’re capable of that. After all, if what the Detective says is true, you had to hire out for your husband.”

“You won’t get away with this, Min,” Cassandra said, playing the part of a grieving daughter perfectly.

Min’s placid face twisted in a snarl as she looked between the three of them. “I’d be very careful with what any of you say next.”

“You must be thinking of someone else, Min,” Juno said. “I never keep my mouth shut.”

“One of your more annoying qualities,” she agreed.

Her hand dipped into her handbag, and before Juno could step forward to stop her, she withdrew a small blaster from within it. It wasn’t a standard model, which made sense knowing the kind of money that Min had at her disposal. Juno held his hands up, taking a step backwards as she held the gun steady towards his head. Her eyes were as placid as a deep lake, and just as dark. There was no remorse, no pity, in them for him, or Cassandra, or even Glass. Instead, if he had to assign some sort of thoughts to what he saw, it would be calculation. 

She would only have a few seconds from her first shot to take out the other two. That was assuming that the first shot didn't go through him and hit Cassandra as well. And if it didn’t, she would have to deal with Cassandra drawing her own blaster and firing back. There was also the chance that she would go for Glass first, which would give him enough time to draw his own blaster from his coat. But that would put Nureyev- Glass in danger, which was the last thing that Juno wanted to happen. The best thing, then, would be for him to rush Min and hopefully take her off guard, allowing for one of the other two to take her down. 

As Juno made up his mind and his muscles tensed in anticipation, Min made a soft choking noise. Her arm wavered, her finger spasming on the trigger. The blaster went off, the shot going wide. The sound of shattering glass covered the sound of her knees hitting the floor as her hand went to the knife that was sticking through her neck. She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes as her hand grasped the hilt. Before anyone could think to stop her, she pulled it out. She let out another strangled gasp as she dropped the knife, her eyes losing focus as she collapsed backwards to the floor. 

“You killed her,” Cassandra said, her voice making Juno look up from the body and the blood beginning to form a halo around the head. 

“She was going to kill both you and the Detective,” Glass said, coming to stand beside them. His hand reached over and around Juno’s shoulders, turning him fully away from the body. “I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect a thank you from me,” Cassandra said, her demeanor changing to that of a haughty heiress. “This was already going to be hard enough to explain to the HCPD with Min alive.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Glass interjected smoothly.

“Of course I will,” she said. “Juno, I’ll make sure the payment clears. You and Agent Glass should clear out before the HCPD arrives.”

“Won’t they need our statements?”

“Even they know better than to question Dark Matters. And if they want to ask Juno any questions they know where to find him. You know where the door is.”

“Nice throw,” Juno managed to say as she walked out of the private gallery. “And, thanks. For um...”

“Saving your life?” Glass said, a small smile on his face.

“Um...” Juno could feel the back of his neck flush and could only hope that his cheeks weren’t doing the same. “Sure, yeah.”

“Are you feeling alright, Detective?”

“Just really don’t like blood.”

“Yes, there is quite a lot of it in here,” Glass said, his eyes darting to the Mask, its display case, and over Juno’s shoulder to Min’s corpse. “I believe we should take Ms. Kanagawa’s advice and leave.”

He offered his arm to Juno, which he took without grumbling. As they walked out of the private gallery Glass stumbled against one of the cases, before regaining his balance. Juno rolled his eyes as he saw him straighten his jacket unnecessarily, and blinked again when the right one snapped back into focus. He grimaced at the odd sensation, but ignored it as best as he could as they made their way out of the building. 

Once outside, Juno took a deep breath and let it out in relief. Night had fallen since they had been inside, leaving the city below bathed in neon that drowned out the lights of the stars above. It made his heart hurt to not see them, which he realized was almost irrational. After all, it hadn’t been until he left Hyperion that he had actually seen the stars. But he missed them. And as he turned his face back down from the sky, he saw Glass looking at him. There was a fond look in his eyes, as if he had seen something that he recognized in Juno. And that made it worse.

“Something the matter, Detective?”

“Just...” he sighed, pulling out the keys to his car. “That was a lot, in there.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Glass said. He reached over and snatched the keys from Juno’s hand. “I think you’d better let me drive you home, Detective. You did just lose an awful amount of blood.”

“Careful, a lady might begin to think you care,” Juno shot back. 

“I think you’d be surprised at just how much I do,” Glass said. “Now do come along, it is rather chilly out.”

Juno barely put up a token protest as he slid into the passenger side of his car. Unlike their drive to the Kanagawa mansion, Glass didn’t make any conversation as Juno let his head rest against the window. There were a few questions of where to turn, but eventually Glass pulled up alongside his apartment building. Juno went to get out of the car, but bit his lip and turned to Glass.

“Want to come up for a drink?”

A dazzling smile, a real smile, overtook Glass’ face. “If you’re offering?”

“You did save my life,” Juno said, trying to play it off. 

“Well, Dark Matters won’t be expecting me to leave until tomorrow,” Glass told him as he stepped out of the car as well. “I’m sure they won’t care about a drink.”

Juno berated himself silently as he led Glass up the stairs to his apartment. If he and his past self switched back tomorrow, he would have no connection with the thief. No reasons why he should trust him. Perhaps by coming back Juno had screwed up what might have been, and he had been prepared to accept that. But the way that Glass was looking at him, as if he was something precious... if Glass came back to the Juno that should have met him, he was going to get his heart broken worse than Nureyev had the first time. 

But the selfish part of him, the part that he had begun to accept as part of himself that was necessary to be happy, didn’t care. Because this Nureyev was happy in a way that Juno could only remember him being before Miasma. Before Juno had broken his heart and hurt him in ways that he was still having trouble discovering. So maybe it was a little selfish to want to have a drink with him, to have some of the easy camaraderie that it had taken time to rebuild on the Carte Blanche, but Juno couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Keys?” Juno said, holding his hand out for them as they came to his door. Glass handed them to him with an apologetic look. “Couch is free, if you want to sit. Let me go get the drinks.”

“It looks... comfy.”

Juno chuckled at the hidden distaste in Glass’ voice. “I don’t use it enough to buy a new one.” He stepped out of his kitchen and set the glasses on the table, popping the cork out of a bottle of whiskey and pouring some into each glass. 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever had Enceladus White,” Glass said as he took a sip. 

“I’m not surprised,” Juno said, taking a seat next to him on the couch. He grimaced as a spring dug into his thigh, making a note to buy this Juno Steel a new one. “It’s cheap but gets the job done.”

“I see,” Glass said. He shifted slightly on the couch so that he was facing Juno more directly. “Did you have another reason for inviting me up here, Detective?”

“Nope,” Juno lied. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Glass said, leaning closer to him. 

Juno snorted into his glass. “Not always.”

“Yes, I must say, that trick you pulled with Ms. Kanagawa worked out quite well for her.”

“You figured that out, huh?” Juno said, setting his glass down. “You didn’t seem to have much of an issue playing along with it.”

“Dark Matters is more concerned with our own business rather than the murder of a stream star by his...  _ wife _ . I’m interested more in how you came across those syringes.”

“Found them in my pocket,” Juno said as he turned to face Glass. He slipped his hand surreptitiously into another pocket of his coat, fingering the cool metal of the handcuffs within. 

“I suppose Min must have been a little careless if she left them where you could find them.”

“It’s amazing how some people will underestimate you.”

“I’m sure its something that they come to regret,” Glass said, his eyes darting to Juno’s lips.

Juno wasn’t sure which of them moved first. He would have liked to say it was him, if only to assuage his guilt. It was nice, the feeling of Nureyev’s lips against his own, his strong hands pushing him back until he was propped against the armrest with Nureyev between his legs. It was only because of the memories that Juno had of him, the way that he gasped his name as if it was something precious, that let Juno forcibly separate the two men - the same man - in his head. As Glass pulled back Juno couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped him, but he fought the urge to reach up and drag him back down.

“Rex...”

The thief looked proud of himself, and leaned down again so that their foreheads were almost touching. “Yes, Juno?”

“Has anyone ever told you-”

Before Juno could finish, Glass bent down and pressed his lips against Juno’s again. Juno couldn’t stop himself and let him lead. It was only when he heard the clicking of the handcuffs around his wrists that he started, and not quickly enough to stop Glass from locking them behind his back.

“I do believe that you meant those for me,” Glass said, his delivery slightly downplayed by his breathlessness.

“What?” Juno said, yanking on the handcuffs slightly. 

They were a cheap pair, one he had gotten when someone had found a box that should have been recalled but instead were being used to turn a quick cred. A Safe Cells Model... Juno pulled at the slack chain between the two cuffs and began to count the links.

“I have to wonder, what gave me away?” Glass asked as he sat back up. 

“A few things,” Juno said with a shrug that he used to hide the way he yanked at the fifth link. “Mostly I just thought it was odd that you knew the way to the art gallery, even though you’d never been there before. And the door opening.”

“So you picked my pockets and found the syringes.”

“When Cass mentioned the DNA locks, I got a better idea of what was going on,” Juno said as the link snapped between his fingers. “So, you’re not Dark Matters then.”

“I could be,” Glass said. “After all, it has gotten me to Mars... and to you, Juno Steel.”

“Next time don’t wear sunglasses with actual diamonds in them and I’ll believe that,” Juno replied. “So, you were here to steal the Mask. I’m surprised you went along with what Cass and I did.”

“I wasn’t particularly fond of the way that Mrs. Kanagawa threatened you,” Glass said. “I’ve grown rather fond of you over these last few hours, and I would have hated to see you disappear.”

Juno hoped his flinch wasn’t visible to Glass. He did his best to disguise it as he pushed himself back into a seated position. His hands were still tucked behind him, more because he didn't want to give up the game just yet. Glass raised a hand and cupped his cheek, his eyes going soft as Juno let himself lean into it. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but again, Juno let himself be selfish. 

“So you stole it on the way out?” Juno asked. “I mean, you don’t seem like the type to stumble.”

“I can’t get anything past you, can I?” Glass asked.

“Probably not,” Juno agreed, before pulling his hands out from behind his back and pulling him close for another heated kiss. 

Glass mumbled something in surprise against Juno’s lips before the hand cupping his cheek threaded through his curls. Juno smiled as he pulled back, admiring the blush that stained Nureyev’s cheeks. His eyes were wide behind the sunglasses that were slid halfway down his nose, and Juno reached a hand up to push them back into position.

“You keep surprising me, Detective,” he said softly as he caught Juno’s hand. 

“Well, here’s one more,” Juno told him. “Cass isn’t going to care much about the theft, which means you can take it to whoever hired you.”

“You aren’t going to try and stop me?”

“It’s none of my business,” Juno said, ignoring how much of a lie that was.

“Oh Juno,” Glass - no, that tone was all Nureyev - replied, “I may just have to steal you after all.”

He pressed his lips to Juno’s again, nothing more than a quick peck that still left him wanting more. Nureyev was off of the couch before Juno could do anything to stop him, walking over to the window and opening it. As Juno sat there, stunned, Nureyev shot him a wry look before jumping out of it. That stirred him into action, and he ran over to the window even though he knew Nureyev wouldn’t have done something so stupid without calculating all the odds. When he leaned out he could see a slim black form walking down the street, his hair catching the neon of the streetlights, before he vanished around a corner and was gone. 

Juno sighed, closing the window and latching it shut. Not that it would do much good if Nureyev really wanted to get back in, but it would probably deter most other burglars. Granted, being a few floors up would be enough deterrent unless you were Peter Nureyev. He collapsed back onto his couch, wincing as that same spring dug into his skin. Buying a new couch was quickly moving up on his list. 

But there was something much more important that he needed to do first. Juno pulled out his comms, scrolling through until he found the record button. If he woke up tomorrow back on the Carte Blanche, this Juno needed to know what had happened. What might happen in the future. Maybe it would help him make better decisions than Juno had originally. Or maybe this was all a waste of time and Juno was stuck here forever. He shoved that thought away quickly, not willing to deal with it. Tapping the button, Juno began to speak.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Time Travel AU's, and I haven't seen a lot in this fandom. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
